It’s been three decades since Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain took his own life in the greenhouse above his garage. Looking back, his battle with addiction and depression makes his early death seem almost inevitable. But in his final weeks, Cobain’s friends and family didn’t see it that way.
As a new interview with Nirvana’s manager reveals, the days preceding Cobain’s death were a mix of deep concern and desperate hope. Danny Goldberg, who managed the band from 1990 to 1993, believed the musician’s downward spiral could be stopped – if only they could get him off heroin.
In the podcast ‘What It Was Like’, Goldberg reflects on those turbulent weeks, highlighting how history never feels like history when you’re in it.
Nothing at that time was certain. He believed Courtney Love had enough influence to keep Cobain alive, and with the band having recently recorded a new song, Cobain’s commitment to his music seemed intact. Anything felt possible, so an intervention plan was set in motion.
The following is a condensed account of Godberg’s experience of Cobain’s struggles, from the day he signed the band to realising heroin would be a problem. Finally, Godberg describes flying to Seattle to stage one last desperate intervention. It was a chaotic time and one that still haunts him to this day.
Hit the play button on the player for the full interview and read the exclusive excerpt below.
I still remember the first time I met Nirvana. They flew down to Los Angeles from Seattle and I met them in my office. And I remember Dave Grohl had just joined the group a few weeks earlier, so he did very little talking. Krist Novoselic for the first 15 or 20 minutes did most of the talking. He was very friendly but also very political, as I was, so we shared that in common.
Kurt was just kind of sitting there not saying anything, and physically he waa the smallest of the three. At one point, I was trying to figure out if they were interested in being on a major label or staying on Sub Pop. I hadn’t been made clear yet, so I asked, “Do you want to stay on Sub Pop?” And suddenly, Kurt piped up and said, “Absolutely not.” It was just a couple of sentences. I realised that not only did they want to be on a major label, but that he was the boss because it wasn’t a question.
At that time it was 1990 and I was 40 years old. I’d been in the business for 20 years and had my own company called Gold Mountain Entertainment. We’d been able to sign Sonic Youth, which is how I met songwriter Thurston Moore. Thurston was just someone who I had enormous respect for not only as a great musician, but also as someone who had his finger on the pulse of that generation of rock artists. And he loved Nirvana.
But at the time, I was very worried about new artists. When you’re running a management company, you’re paying your bills based on commissions. It’s not like being a record company or a music publisher where you’re owning copyrights and masters that you can later monetize. But Thurston called me and he said, “This is the best band I’ve ever seen. You should make an exception.” So I trusted him and as a result, we met with them and within 24 hours I agreed to be their manager.
Nevermind went on to sell well over 10 million. I had no idea it was going to be what it was. It changed the rock world and the music business. That’s factual. It created a new category of commerciality. Once Nirvana opened that door, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden and Alice in Chains came through. It changed what was mainstream rock and roll overnight.
Not just that but it was also quite respected by critics. That’s a rarity to have something that’s both a pop and critical phenomenon. I remember the New York Times did a story. They interviewed Eddie Rosenblatt, the head of Geffen. They asked him what was the marketing plan for Nevermind? And he told them the marketing plan was to get out of the way and duck. And that’s about right.
But the honeymoon didn’t last long. Nevermind came out in September 1991 and by January, we realised Kurt had a drug problem. That’s when they did Saturday Night Live. The week before, an article came about about Kurt strongly implying it. We thought it was just scandal mongering, but we were alert to the fact it could be a problem. I’ve been around people with drug problems. I’ve seen junkies before. Then seeing him on stage it was quite clear, so we did our first intervention.
Initially it had the desired effect that they both [Kurt and Courtney] went into rehab. But it didn’t have a permanent effect because Kurt was in and out of treatment for the rest of his life.
It was such a short period of time between Nevermind coming out and his death – two and a half years. A lot of a lot of stress along the way and all of the stress was related to drugs. I spoke to him on the phone as often as possible. I was terribly worried about him. He overdosed in Italy, six or eight weeks before he died. All of us tried to suggest different doctors or meditation.
But then in March 1994, Courtney wanted another intervention. She called me and said, “Look, he’s the worst he’s ever been. Please come. We’ve got to get him to go into treatment now.” So I flew up there with another manager from Gold Mountain, Janet Billig Rich. Janet had found an expert on interventions, an ex-drug addict, to come along but Kurt just couldn’t stand that guy. Nothing wrong with that guy, I think he was a nice guy, but Kurt just wanted nothing to do with this stranger who was lecturing him on the theory that they had some brotherhood because that dude also used to be a junkie.
I just remember sitting there trying to deny that drugs were his problem and pointing his finger at other things. And I was just saying, “I’ll support anything you want to do. If you don’t want to tour, that’s fine. But you can’t make good decisions when you’re strung out.”
He was in a pretty bad mood. I don’t think anyone in that situation is too thrilled about people invading their home to lecture them. And I remember each one of us sitting around him, taking turns to persuade him to get clean. I just remember it was really depressing and when I left, I was worried that I’d been too confrontational. And so when I got home, I called him.
I just said, “Look man, I love you. And if I said anything that upset you, it’s just that I want what’s best for you.” And he said, “Oh, I know, I love you too.”
My daughter Katie was there and she was about three or four years old. She knew Kurt from the time she was a baby and she was a very precocious three or four year old. She was very articulate and had a connection with him. So she got on the phone and she said, “Kurt, you sound so grumpy.”
And that was the last we ever spoke.
I was very proud to be involved with them. If anyone writes obituaries of me when I die, I’m sure the first line will be “former Nirvana manager Danny Goldberg.”
There’s one Beatles, there’s one Rolling Stones, there’s one Bob Marley, there’s one Bob Dylan, and there’s one Kurt Cobain. If you’re lucky enough to work with them, you know how rare they are. There’s only one Nirvana. That’s just as it should be.
I don’t think a day goes by where I don’t see someone wearing a Nirvana t-shirt, and most of the people wearing them weren’t alive when those records came out. It’s an amazing thing to have made that kind of impact as an artist separate from his own life. I think that’s testimony to how faithful he was to his own emotions and feelings and how deeply he could empathise with other people’s pain.
Kurt had multiple talents. As an artist and as a performer, he was the full package. A great songwriter, a great singer, and a media genius. But tragically he had no talent for dealing with his angst, his pain, nor his depression.
This was a short excerpt of the interview. For the full story, listen to the show on Apple or Spotify.
